Page 27 of Justice for Francesca

“This is ridiculous. Banana cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Ah, a sweet tooth. Noted.”

“How do you know the victim?”

“We knew each other for just over a year, first as business partners, which led to a few dates. More out of convenience than anything else. She helped me make a contact to buy the club space in London, and I gave her ten percent interest in Elysium as a commission.”

She felt her heart contract in pain at hearing him confirm they’d been dating. “Were there any other Sequeira family members or associates who were club patrons?”

“That’s two questions. Yes. I knew she was the Sequeira principessa; however, she had nothing to do with the family business. Had her own job, worked for an uncle, but he was also unaffiliated. To my knowledge, no other Sequeiras are members, nor were they at the party. Associates would be harder to determine, but none of the major players I’m aware of are members, nor were they in attendance that night.” He leaned forward. “Okay. I get two questions to balance out your two.”

Francesca got the sense these questions were going to be tougher.

“Why the FBI, and why Dallas-Fort Worth?”

“Pass.”

Tripoli shook his head. “Do I get to ‘pass’ with the FBI?”

She huffed. “You know you don’t.”

“Then you get no ‘pass’ options with me. Give it up.”

She looked across the room at the blank television, not really seeing it. Instead, a montage of memories passed before her eyes. How could she answer without giving up too much of herself? Truthfully? She couldn’t. Something pushed at her to answer him anyway.

“Every male in our family has been a police officer since our ancestors came over from the homeland. Every one of them has been on the graft, and everyone knows it. However, they’re sneaky and smart. They’ve never been caught, or no charges have ever been pressed. This includes my father and my older triplet brothers.”

“So you became a cop because you didn’t want that to be your family’s final legacy?”

She nodded reluctantly. “I worked hard to try and break the cycle. My family neither respected my choice to become a police officer nor respected my wish to be free of the Dirty McCabes’ reputation. When it became clear that no one believed I was clean, despite all evidence to the contrary, I left the police force. I still wanted to be a part of law enforcement, so I applied to the FBI, and as soon as I graduated from the academy, I asked for a transfer as far from home as I could get.”

“Michael was not part of that explanation.”

She shook her head and looked at her hands in her lap. “I had hoped Michael would escape, like me.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, in his first year at the academy, there was a scandal, and he was accused of selling drugs on his beat. Nothing came of it, but the dirt had begun. He vanished. One night, he was home, and the next, he was gone. No note, no explanation,no nothing. It was terrifying not knowing where he was, if he was safe. We’d been very close, so it was heartbreaking.”

“You never said what the catalyst was to you leaving the police force.”

She considered what to say. “A rumor began that I was sleeping with the police chief and several other city officials. People were saying it was my way of paying for protection for my family.”

“Assholes,” he muttered.

“You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“If I slept with those men or not.”

“Nope. No need to ask. You wouldn’t do that.”

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she tried not to think about how warm that made her feel. People didn’t often believe what a McCabe said unless it was a threat. Clearing her throat, she redirected his attention. “Back to my questions. How did Mila take you ending your relationship?”

“I’ll be honest, not well. She was always more invested than I was, but I always kept it casual. And no, we weren’t lovers.”

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t intimate with her. After all, you were a Dominant at The Library, and you were an active participant there. Scenes don’t necessarily equal sex.” Acid felt like it was rising up from her stomach at the comment. It shouldn’t bother her, but she found that it did. More than it should.

“During my initial time at the club, yes, I was an active participant, but by the time you arrived, it was more just a social place to hang out with my friends. I haven’t been a part of an actual scene in over two years.”

She digested the timeline, a little flutter passing through her insides. For longer than he’d known her, he hadn’t been with anyone? She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just a little bit,his lack of participation had to do with meeting her. Then she shook off the idea. It didn’t matter if he had or hadn’t been playing at the club or having a relationship with anyone outside the club. Okay. That was a lie. It did matter, but since she was only lying to herself, it didn’t count.

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